


So Late

by wordslinger



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M, Likely complete, jerza - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-10-28 14:47:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10833462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordslinger/pseuds/wordslinger
Summary: Jellal regrets the invitation the instant he says it but not enough to rescind. When she ends the call abruptly, he isn't sure what she'll do. His words hang in the air in front of him. Guilt. Shame. Self-loathing. He feels them all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story about loss, cheating, and the aftermath. If that’s not your jam, don’t come to this party.
> 
> I listened to Lips of an Angel by Hinder on a loop today. I fucking love that song.

He scrapes the remnants of dinner from the plates into the sink and watches the pasta slop down the drain. The sound of the disposal grinding drowns out the television in the next room. _Anything_ to distract him from the tasteless food that sits in his stomach and the remaining minutes of a movie he can't even remember the name of.

“Jellal?” her voice carries from the living room. “Are you coming back?” He closes his eyes and chastises himself. Yukino deserves better than this. Most days he _is_ better. He _enjoy_ _s_ going out of his way to make her smile. He _want_ _s_ to hear her sigh against the pillows. It _calm_ _s_ him to smell the jasmine of her body wash on his sheets. She makes him _happy._

Then there are _other_ days. Days like this one. Days where a song on the radio reminds him of other times and other people – another _person_. He still has a box of things on the top shelf of his closet that smells sweeter than jasmine.

“Jellal?” Her voice directly behind him is startling and he jumps. “Are you okay? You've been quiet all night.”

“I'm fine,” he lies. Yukino's hair is the color of the moon and he really does love it. She usually pins it back in a side part but wisps are always escaping in the slightest breeze. He thinks the fly aways make her smile prettier.

“You don't seem fine.” She steps into him and wraps her arms around his middle. “Did you have a bad day?”

“Yeah,” he mutters, dropping a kiss on the exposed part of her shoulder where her jacket has slipped down. “It wasn't a great day. I'm glad it's over.”

“Do you want me to stay? I don't mind. I can call my neighbor to check on the cat.” She gazes up at him with wide, eager eyes. He doesn't deserve her concern.

“I'll be fine. The week's almost over and I can't ask you to stay here and then rush home to change in the morning.” She doesn't turn away until she's satisfied, and she isn't satisfied until he smiles and kisses her lips. Even her lip balm is wrong.

“Okay,” Yukino whispers. She doesn't quite believe him but doesn't know where exactly to dig for the lie. He kisses her again, softer this time.

“Call me on your lunch tomorrow and we'll make plans for Saturday.” At the mention of plans, she smiles. He _d_ _oes_ love her smile. He _d_ _oes_ _._

Yukino reminds him to water his plants before she leaves for the night. He couldn't have been more relieved to be alone. The shower is hot and damn near painful but he wants to wash _– scrub –_ the day away. After the water runs cold, he strips his bed. The scent of jasmine drives him crazy on the nights when all he wants is honeysuckle.

The fresh sheets please him. They smell like nothing at all. A blank slate. Jellal falls backwards into the bed, still wrapped in the clean towel he'd meant to toss in the washing machine with the sheets. If he hurries, he can catch the cycle before it truly starts – but Jellal never makes it back to the laundry room.

Before he even glances at the face of his vibrating phone he knows who's texted him. He _kn_ _ows_ _._ The feeling has been sitting – congealing – in his gut ever since that goddamn song played on the radio.

_'Call me?'_ The message is short. Brief. To the point.

He should delete it.

But he doesn't.

She wasn't in his contacts anymore but she doesn't need to be. He would know her number even if asked to dial it blind. Her voice in his ear is like the sweetest honey.

“Erza?” Her name on his tongue is even sweeter.

“I'm sorry,” she whispers. “I shouldn't've –”

“I thought of you today,” he blurts. “I was in traffic.”

“I heard it too.” Erza pauses and the silence between them suffocates him. “Jellal...” She breathes and he can feel her weighing her words.

“Come over.” Jellal regrets the invitation the instant he says it but not enough to rescind. When she ends the call abruptly, he isn't sure what she'll do. His words hang in the air in front of him. Guilt. Shame. Self-loathing. He feels them all.

But only until she knocks.

He doesn't bother to dress and when she steps inside his apartment she glances over her shoulder nervously. As if there are eyes on her back – _there aren't._ The instant the door closes he has her against it. Her kisses are greedy and he thinks maybe he hears a whispered, _'We shouldn't'_ but her hands on his body disagree.

Erza smells like honeysuckle. Her hair is long and slides through his fingers like the finest strands of silk. She is smaller than Yukino _here,_ but fuller _there._ The comparisons are the worst part but his mind won't shut off. He supposes he shouldn't have the pleasure without the flagellation anyway.

Her dress doesn't make it to his bedroom. Neither does his towel. Her skin is the softest thing he shouldn't be touching but he can't stop himself. He takes her on her back until _she_ takes him on _his_ back.

A curtain of red spills over her shoulder as she gasps into his pillows. Jellal is drawn to her shoulder. The curve of her neck calls to him. His teeth scrape over her skin and she reaches back to card her fingers through his hair. Erza's mouth falls open and he knows what she wants – but also knows better. He _can't_ mark her. He _won't._

Her fingers tighten in his hair almost daring him to do it. His teeth sink in just enough but he can't bring himself to draw her skin into his mouth and leave the bruise he wants. When his hand slips between her legs, she grasps his wrist. Her nails hurt and he _loves_ the sting.

Just like every time, her finish is his finish. She drags him into her spiral of pleasure and he doesn't even try to stop it. His forehead falls to the back of her neck and his arm circles her waist as she catches her breath.

When he falls to the bed beside her, she watches him closer than he'd like – but that's Erza. She isn't easily fooled like Yukino. She knows him far too well to buy into his bullshit.

“Why am I here?” she asks. Jellal brushes a strand of her sweat damp hair behind the ear not pressed into his pillow.

“Because I'm a bad person,” he whispers.

“I won't wait forever, Jellal.” He knows she won't. He _hopes_ she will but he _knows_ she won't.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on expanding this ever but I'm in A Mood. I don't know if there will be more.

Jellal fidgets. The words burn his throat like bile but he needs to get them out. “I saw her again,” he whispers.

“This week?” The woman across from him adjusts the glasses on her face and crosses her legs.

“Last week.” He glances up and she shifts in her chair again. Her face is professional and placid.

“What triggered the impulse?”

“A song on the radio.” He frowns down at his hands. “I had Yukino over for dinner and a movie. She could tell I was upset but –” Jellal sighs and feels like he's sinking. “I told her we'd make plans and she smiled. I don't know why she believes anything I say. I think she knows I'm lying. When she left, I showered, remade my bed and –”

“Did you have sex with Yukino that night?” she broke into his thoughts and Jellal's head snaps up. He blinks.

“No.”

“Then why did you remake your bed?” She isn't looking at him, but down at her notepad. He feels her question in his chest.

“Because it smelled like her and I couldn't take it.” When he can breathe again he sits back in his chair. “Erza texted me. I told her to come over and she did. She left the next morning before sunrise.”

“Have you spoken to her since?”

“No.” The sound of her pen tapping against the notepad distracts him. She sets it aside and pierces him with her dark eyes.

“Jellal, you've been coming to me for two years now. Well beyond your initial referral. You've returned to work, haven't had any relapses –” She pauses and quirks and eyebrow. He shakes his head. “What are your goals? What are you working toward?”

He is floored. _Goals?_

“I'm going to be honest with you, Jellal. You're involved in three very unhealthy relationships. One with your girlfriend, one with your ex-girlfriend, and the one with yourself. Let me ask you a question. When you're with Erza, do you lie to her?”

_“Why am I here?”_

_“Because I'm a bad person.”_

Jellal closes his eyes and clasps his hands together again. “No, I don't lie to Erza.”

“But you do lie to Yukino?”

“All the time.” She leans forward and crosses her arms on the point of her knee.

“If you want to be free of what happened, you have to get clear of the subterfuge you used to patch yourself. I can't tell you if Erza is good for you but she commands your honesty. Yukino doesn't.”

“I can't tell her she's my bandage,” he whispers. “I can't.”

“You don't have to use those words _but_ Yukino is an adult woman and you've been in a relationship with her for –”

“Eight months,” he supplied.

“This masochism will harm both of you.”

* * *

 

Even though he recognizes her headlights from half a block away, she doesn't see him until she's halfway up the front walk. She's still in her work clothes but her hair is down. She frowns.

“You're drunk.” Her tone is accusatory.

“Maybe a little.” Her eyes bounce around the patio before she marches past him and into the house. The sliver of light from inside cuts across his feet and he can hear the sound of pattering paws and her soft voice. A cold nose presses to his neck and excited snuffling drags a smile from him. She directs the dog away and into the front yard. Her midnight fur glows under the street lamps as she sniffs out the shrubs. The scent of honeysuckle is very faint but he'd recognize it in a crowded room. “Febie looks good,” he says, trying not to slur his words too much.

“Why are you here?” she asks, still not looking at him. Her hair hangs tangled from the long day over her shoulder and Jellal wants so badly to touch it but doesn't.

“Because you _command my honesty?”_ Erza snorts and Jellal grins.

“Are you still seeing that therapist?” she asks.

“Yep.”

“I thought so. That sounds like something she'd say.” She sighs and stretches her legs out in front of her. He watches as she kicks off her flats and wiggles her toes. Febie is now circling the tree at the far end of the yard.

“I broke up with Yukino.”

“Yukino?”

Jellal purses his lips. “My girlfriend.”

“I see.” She nods. “You never told me her name.”

“It doesn't ma –”

“It does,” Erza says quietly but with authority. “Be honest. It matters. You can't erase her, Jellal. You can't erase _anything.”_ He sighs but welcomes the black lab that used to be _theirs_ between his knees. She sniffs his hands and sweater eagerly before backing up and planting herself between himself and Erza like the child of divorced parents.

“I got promoted,” he blurts. She glances over at him and offers affection to Febie instead.

“I knew you'd follow through, _Lieutenant._ ” Her laugh is soft and musical. He wishes it didn't turn him to such sappy mush.

“I'm still at the same firehouse but by this time next year I'll have my own squad.” Erza finally lets him meet her eyes.

“Still not calling you Lieutenant Fernandes.”

“I would never be so brazen to ask.” He can't help the wistful smile that crawls across his face. “Erza –” She doesn't let him finish.

“Not tonight, Jellal. Not when you're drunk and I'm tired and amused by the dog who still loves you.” Erza stands and Febie follows. The light from the living room spills across the porch. “Are you coming inside or do you intend to freeze to death out here?”

When he stands, it's unsteady. She doesn't offer to help.

The house looks the same as it did nearly two years ago. He's both relieved and broken by it. Febie won't stop circling his legs. Erza grabs his arm and directs him to the couch.

“We'll talk tomorrow.” The dog leaps up to the couch but Erza pats her flank. “Get down, girl. No couch.” Jellal falls into the cushions and closes his eyes. He could sleep for years.

“I never told her about what happened.” His mouth is speaking words he didn't plan on saying. “I didn't want her to look at me like a – a –”

“Like something broken?” Her question comes to him quietly and it's a struggle to open his eyes again. “I never thought you were broken, Jellal.”

_“I_ thought I was, though.” His eyes slide closed again and he hears a lamp click off. The weight of a blanket falls over his shoulders. As the world melts away, a warm body settls between his bent knees and the couch. Febie rests her head over his thigh and sighs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone take this fic away from me. I don't know what I'm doing.

Febie knows he's awake before he knows it himself. She hops off the couch and presses her nose to the apple of his cheek.

“Hey, girl,” he rasps. Jellal sits up straight and lets his legs fall over the edge of the couch. Febie stands and paces in front of him. He didn't drink enough for a hangover but his back aches. He's long past the expiration date of sleeping on the couch without consequences. Erza's voice comes to him first but it's the other that makes him freeze. Febie's head rests on his knee and she looks up at him dolefully.

Jellal _knows_ eavesdropping is wrong. It's childish and immature and cowardly and utterly _ridiculous._ He does it anyway. He tells himself it's _fine_ because they're in the kitchen and _not_ whispering.

“– an explanation!” Jellal's ears prickle. He thinks he recognizes it but can't quite put a finger there.

“I don't owe you anything.” Erza's voice is casual but he recognizes the steel beneath.

“He's on your _couch,_ Erza,” the man hisses.

“Exactly. The _couch._ ” She pauses and Jellal hears the water switch on briefly. “And even if he was elsewhere, I still wouldn't owe you a goddamn thing.”

“Are you serious?” the man's voice lowers. Jellal frowns and strains. “Erza, it's been almost a year now. That's long enough for me to question things.”

“Question what?”

“You _know_ what. Are you seriously asking me that? Erza _please.”_ Jellal purses his lips. _Bad move, buddy._

“I've never lied to you, Simon.” Jellal's stomach turns. _Simon._

“Yeah, well, you didn't exactly offer anything up did you? How long has he been crashing on your fucking couch?” The sound of the coffee pot percolating to life fills the silence between himself and the kitchen – and between the pair within.

“That question is above your pay grade.” Jellal heaves a breath and exhales slowly when she snaps quickly. _“Stop._ Begging makes me look like the villain here and that's bullshit.”

“The villain? Erza –” Simon laughs. “Are you sleeping with him? Is – is that what's happening here?”

“You should go. You'll be late.”

“I don't know why I'm surprised,” Simon goes on. “You've always been weak when it comes to him. I guess maybe I put you on a pedestal. Cheating is so...” he trails off and Jellal stands suddenly. He leaves his shoes on the floor by the couch and crosses the living room in socks. _“Base.”_

He doesn't try to shut the hallway bathroom quietly. The sink is on within seconds and Jellal stares down at the water circling into the drain. Self-loathing fogs his mind. He never thinks of what Erza walks away from to be with him – doesn't ever consider who might miss her. _Selfish selfish selfish._

_“I hope she makes you happy.”_ Yukino hadn't cried but her words were like rain clouds on the brink of overflowing. Jellal took eight months from her and even more than that from Erza.

When he leaves the bathroom he finds Febie at the end of the hall. She sniffs his hand and her tongue flicks out to wet the tips of his fingers. The cup of coffee on the edge of the counter isn't hot anymore and Erza doesn't look up from her laptop when he joins her at the kitchen table. He drinks the coffee even though it does nothing but add to the roil of his stomach.

“Do you need a ride home?” she asks when she finally snaps the laptop shut. Jellal meets her eyes but she's already closed off. He already knows what it's like being on this side of her walls and figures she can't do much worse than kick him out.

“Last night when I said Yukino's name didn't matter, you said it did. You said I couldn't erase anything.” He stares her down and is surprised when she drops her gaze first. “Why didn't you ever mention Simon?”

“Should I have?” She taps her index finger on the darkened apple shape on the body of her laptop. “I didn't think we were doing anything other than fucking.” Her words sting like a gunshot to his chest – or maybe his gut. Maybe both.

“You've always been more to me than that, Erza. _Jesus.”_ His words come out as a whisper but in his head they're a scream.

“You know,” she stands and snatches his empty cup. “I told myself I was better than you. Simon can fling words at me like _'cheating'_ but he's lying to himself. I never let him get close enough to ever be guilty of something like infidelity. I told myself _this_ made me _better.”_ Jellal doesn't dare speak. Her back is still to him. “I wasn't the one with a girlfriend I would take out on dates and watch movies with. I never let Simon so much as _sleep_ in the bed.”

He flinches when she spins around. Her face is a storm.

“But I'm not better. I _helped_ you hurt someone else because you wanted to hide in a cave like a wounded bear, Jellal. I wasn't cheating on Simon but I contributed to _you_ cheating on Yukino.” Erza pauses and swipes at a tear. “I'm not okay with that. I'm not okay with you showing up here out of the blue announcing you broke up with your girlfriend while I watch the dog – _our fucking dog, Jellal_ – act like you're the best thing she's seen in months.” She's breathing heavily now and Jellal swallows every word he could've possibly said. Now wasn't the time. “I have plans today. With friends.”

Jellal watches her glide out of the kitchen. He feels emptier now than when he did almost two years ago when he walked out of this house and didn't come back until last night. His thigh feels warm and slightly damp – Febie's nose has found him again. She doesn't leave him even when Erza returns with a freshly washed face and pulls her keyring from her purse.

“I called you a cab,” she says without feeling. Jellal can't do anything but nod. He drops a kiss to the top of Febie's head and grabs his shoes on the way out the front door. Erza locks the door behind her and walks swiftly past where he's still tying his shoes on the steps. When she stops just shy of the gate, he raises one eyebrow but says nothing. “You weren't the only one damaged that night, Jellal,” she says softly. “While you were off licking your wounds, I –”

Erza says nothing else. The gate clangs shut behind her and she leaves him alone on the porch. His cab doesn't show until twenty minutes later and it's not until he arrives back at his apartment that he realizes his phone was left behind the night before. The empty beer bottles are still in a cluster on his table. Nothing is touched except the flower pots outside the door. The soil is damp and the welcome mat is askew. Underneath is the silver key he had cut for Yukino three months prior.

By the time the clock on his microwave blinks two o'clock, he is drunk once again.

* * *

 

Jellal's phone is still on the charger – where it's been since late Saturday morning – when her text message comes through. He's laying out his Monday uniform and he ignores the message for a full half hour.

_'We need to talk.'_ Jellal falls backward onto his bed. He wants to see her but he's also exhausted. Being away from Erza is exhausting but being near her with a barrier between? Exhausting _and_ painful.

_'When?'_

_'If your shift hasn't changed, Thursday night.'_ She doesn't wait for him to confirm or decline. _'9pm at the bar on 6th.'_

_'Sure.'_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am ruined.

He's had the rubber ball since his days as candidate. It's seen a lot of things and taken a lot of abuse. Jellal used to think of Erza as the constant in his life but now it's the rubber ball. His ankles are propped up and crossed on the edge of his desk as he bounces the ball off the ceiling. The captain has asked him _not_ to do this because the impact of the ball dislodges the ceiling panels, but Jellal is in a mood. His chair is leaning back as far as it will go. He nearly falls when an arm shoots out and snatches the ball midair.

“The Captain will have your ass if she catches you doing that again.” Laxus inspects the scuffed ball before tossing it back in Jellal's face.

“She's not here, though, is she?” He leans back in his chair again but doesn't resume the bouncing. Instead, he clutches the ball in his palm.

“What's your problem?”

“I'm fine.”

“Whatever, then. I'm just telling you to knock it off with the ball.” Laxus falls into the couch opposite Jellal's desk and sighs loudly. “I haven't seen that blonde around the complex in a few days. You piss her off or something?”

Jellal spins his chair around to face his desk. He knows it's useless, though. Laxus doesn't let things go easily.

“Or...” His eyes roll heavenward as he waits for the drop. “Did she find out that you still sneak around with Erza?”

“That's none of your business,” he mumbles, squeezing the ball. Laxus says nothing more but Jellal's skin is already crawling with annoyance. He counts down to ten before exhaling in resignation. “I told her.”

“Why?”

“She already knew something was up. There was no point in lying to her. I felt like I at least owed her validation.”

“What does Erza have to say about all this?” Jellal runs his hands over his face. He really should shave.

“Did you know she was seeing someone?” The springs of the couch squeak behind him and Jellal spins back around. _“Did you?”_

“It's not really my business –”

“So when it's me you're all over my junk but when it's Erza, it's _not your business?”_ Laxus shrugs and Jellal's anger simmers.

“It didn't seem like it was serious.”

“You should've told me.”

_“Or,”_ Laxus rises from the couch and straightens his pants. “You shouldn't have been cheating on your girlfriend with your _ex-_ girlfriend.”

When he's alone again, Jellal leans back in his chair and lobs the ball up toward the ceiling. The panel bounces up and dust falls in his eyes.

* * *

 

The bar on sixth has been open since Jellal was too young to drink. He likes the low lighting and the dark wood. It reminds him of a television show his mom used to watch at night. His fingers rake through damp hair and even though he'll smell like smoke before he leaves the bar, he's glad he showered. Erza is alone at a table in the far corner. Her eyes are glued to her phone so he makes a pit stop at the bar for a drink before pulling out the chair across from her.

She doesn't meet his eyes until she's locked her phone and set it aside. Her expression is flat but her eyes are anxious. Erza watches him spread out the napkin and place the beer bottle in the center. Jellal bites back a sigh and slides the bottle toward her.

“Thanks,” she mutters, gulping half of it down.

“Rough day?” he asks.

“I don't know yet.” Erza doesn't return his beer and he counts it as a loss. He hasn't come here to get buzzed. “I started seeing Simon at the end of that first year.” She scowls at the bottle but it's painful and not angry. “It was a mistake but I was lonely.” When she meets his eyes again, she's a mess. “We'd been together so long, Jellal, and when you _left –”_

With deep patience – Jellal is good at his job because he is generally good under pressure, he is _patient –_ he watches her finish off the bottle.

“I wasn't used to being alone. Simon was just... he was _there._ I knew he wanted but I didn't care.” The calendar of the last two years flips by in his head. Erza was seeing Simon before he'd even _met_ Yukino. He isn't sure how he feels about that. “Febie doesn't like him. The first time I let him in, she growled. I didn't think she'd ever forgive me. She – she always did favor you.”

“Erza, you don't have to –”

“Yeah, I do.” Her voice is a whisper but the wall is solid. With glassy eyes she cuts into him. “I was so _angry_ with you, Jellal. That accident, the _fire,_ it happened to both of us but you made it about _you._ It wasn't fair. And then you _left!_ ”

“I'm sorry.” The words felt _pathetic._

“The first time I saw you with her, I wanted to throttle her. I was _happy_ to ruin it.”

“I wasn't aware you ever saw us together.”

“It was that stupid holiday lights thing they always have in the park. You were smiling and she –” Erza grabbed the empty beer bottle and stood. “She fucking glowed, Jellal.”

He watches her shoulder through the crowd and exchange the empty for a fresh beer. He doesn't dare assume it's a replacement for the one she took from him. Erza falls back into her chair and sighs.

“That was the first time I brought Simon home. I let him fuck me in our bed and it felt good.” She sniffles and Jellal wishes he was anywhere else. “Later it felt bad and I made him leave.”

“You called me on New Year's Eve that year.”

“I just wanted my stuff back. We separated so quickly I wasn't even mad things got lost in the shuffle. But then your apartment smelled like her and you didn't tell me no. You didn't ask me to leave after, either.”

“No,” he whispers.

_“And then_ you didn't call. But you also didn't break up with her.”

“Erza –”

“I'm not here for your excuses, Jellal. I'm here to unburden myself. It's entirely selfish.” Jellal blinks and decides that's fair enough. “I didn't invite Simon on Sunday. He's got a weekend shift now and just _showed up.”_

“I see him around sometimes.” His offering of information feels useless when she only shrugs.

“When I said I wasn't okay with what I helped you do, I lied. I was more than okay with it.” Erza rakes her hand through her hair and tugs lightly. “I wanted to ruin whatever you had with her and I blamed you because I felt like it.” She glances up at him. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm sorry for leaving in the first place and –” She holds up a hand and shakes her head back and forth.

“We're not there yet, Jellal. I'm – I'm not ready to forgive you yet. You _hurt_ me.” His heart gallops in his chest when she stands. She's always been a lightweight and he rethinks whether or not she's had more to drink than the two beers. Erza's hair whirls around with her as she tries – and fails – to not sway as she walks. Jellal grabs the phone she left behind and follows her. He takes her arm gently and escorts her to the restrooms.

As he's waiting, her phone vibrates. Because he can't leave well enough alone he checks the face. Fucking _Simon._ Of course. Erza throws open the bathroom door and stands in the pool of white light. Her eyes are sharp and she surprises him when she reaches out to grab the front of his shirt.

He doesn't fight her. He doesn't tell her no. He locks the door behind him and slides her phone into his pocket. Erza kisses him with a frustrated, bruising force. Her hands are rough and he lets her take from him.

When he lifts her the counter and her legs wrap around his waist, the leather of her boots cuts into his hip. Her wool skirt rides up easily. She skillfully releases the button of his jeans and he pulls the strip of fabric between her thighs to the side. Her phone clatters to the floor when his pants fall open around his waist. She doesn't notice. Erza's breaths are hot on his neck and he pounds into her rougher than he should.

By the time they're finished she's not on the counter anymore but balanced on the edge. There's an indent in the swell of her backside. He can't find words to speak but her eyes take what's left of him.

“I have to go,” she breathes. Erza's feet hit the floor and she snatches up her phone before disappearing back out into the dark hallway.


	5. Chapter 5

“Hey,” Laxus's hand falls heavy on the door frame. He doesn't need to do it, Jellal heard him coming down the hallway. No one stomps like Laxus Dreyar. “You have company.”

“Excuse me?” He glances up from his paperwork.

“Yeah, you know,” Laxus stretches casually and Jellal's eye twitches in annoyance. “Your wife, your girlfriend, your ex that you still –”

“Get to the point, Dreyar,” he bites out.

“Hey, it's not my fucking fault I don't know what to call her anymore. Anyway, she's here.” Laxus quirks an eyebrow with more amused curiosity than Jellal cares for when he stands suddenly.

“Erza?”

“Jesus _fuck_ , you're slow on the uptake today. Yes, Erza is here and she's waiting for you in the common room.”

“Why?” Laxus shakes his head and makes a face.

“How should I know?” He turns and continues on down the hall toward the garage. “Damn, man get it together.”

“She's never been my wife, asshole,” Jellal shouts from the doorway. Laxus disappears around the corner and Jellal rans his hands over the front of his shirt. He doesn't want to care what he looks like in the middle of a three day shift but he does. He _cares._

Erza is waiting with a bag he can smell the second he steps into the common room. The hour is late – so late most of his squad is catching sleep in bunks. Her hair isn't tidy and she shuffles her boots on the floor.

“Hey,” he says softly. Erza whirls around and her cheeks flush his favorite shade of pink. “What are you doing here?”

“I just, uh –” She holds out the bag between them and tucks her hair behind an ear. “Are you hungry?”

“At two in the morning?” He takes the bag and grins as he peeks inside. Ah, _bless_. She'd brought him a burger from _Mira's._ “I'm always hungry.”

“It's an apology.” Erza smiles up at him and it's so small, so genuine, so _hesitant_ it warms all the broken pieces inside of him. “You don't have to accept it, if you don't want to, Jellal. The apology part, I mean. The food can stay.”

“What about you?” he asks, setting the bag aside. He hides his hands in his pockets so he doesn't make a fool out of himself in case she leaves abruptly.

“What _about_ me?”

“Will you stay too?” She's uncertain and he can tell she's already half out the door but he _hopes._ He tells himself she's come to him in the middle of the night wearing her pajama pants tucked into her snow boots and carrying his most favorite late snack ever – as if the last two years were nothing at all. He _hopes_ she'll stay.

“Yeah, okay.” Erza pulls her gloves off and stuffs them into her coat pockets. She yanks the knitted pom pom hat from her head and red wisps float upwards with static cling.

He takes a seat at the long table that's normally filled with hungry members of the house but is now deserted and lit only by the recessed lights above the galley kitchen. Jellal can't help the noises he makes at the first mouthful of cheeseburger. Nobody does it like Mirajane. Erza laughs softly and hands over a paper napkin.

“How are things around here now that you're climbing upward?” she asks. Her voice is quiet and it makes just the two of them in the semi-dark room seem so much more intimate than it really is.

“Well,” Jellal says with a dramatic sigh as he picks through the small bag of french fries. “No one seems as keen on kissing my as I wanted. Dreyar is still a massive dick.” Erza laughs and covers her mouth with her knitted hat.

“If you expected Laxus to kiss your ass, then you really are hopeless, Jellal.”

“You used to tell me I was hopeless back when we were in college before you'd kiss my cheek and ruin my hair.” As soon as the words are out he regrets them. Her smile falls and his chest aches. He doesn't _mean_ to miss her but – he really is hopeless without her. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.” She gathers the trash from in front of him and stuffs it back in the paper bag. “Twelve years is a long time. We can't just...” Erza's voice falls away and she sighs. “We can't just stop,” she whispers. “I – I don't _want_ to stop.”

“I don't know how to fix this, Erza,” he whispers, taking her hands into his. “I've hit a wall.”

“I don't know either.” She sniffles and wicks away stray tears with her hat. “That's why I'm here.” The light laugh takes him by surprise but the sound breaks the tension between them. “Well, _that_ , and to apologize for what happened at the bar last week.” Erza's face turns red and she begins to dig in her pockets.

“I think the bathroom was probably the _least_ problematic sex we've had in the last two years,” he murmurs.

“Fair enough.” Erza hums a low laugh and slides a business card across the table. The edge bends a little as he picks up the card to inspect it. One eyebrow crawls upward and he glances over the top of the card. She fidgets awkwardly. “It's a start, Jellal.”

“When?” He stuffs the card in his breast pocket.

“I made an assumption about your schedule and went ahead and set up an appointment for this Friday.” He watches her agonize before smiling.

“That sounds good. Text me details and I'll be there.” She returns his smile and the nerves disappear from her face. “And let me know how much it is and I'll pay for half.”

“Okay,” Erza's posture eases off and he can tell she's tired. “I should go.” When she stands, he does too and steps around the table. She takes his hand as he escorts her back to the side door.

“Thanks for the food, Erza,” he says at a low volume, still not willing to break the spell of quietude. “And you don't owe me any apologies.”

“I wanted to see you,” she whispers, squeezing his hand. “It was important to me.” Jellal gives into the impulse and rests his forehead against hers.

“I _always_ want to see you,” he breathes. Erza tilts first – slowly and with extreme reservation – but it's Jellal who does the kissing. It's barely a brush of lips. Just a whisper. But it's enough for him to feel like maybe there's _hope._

The shrill blaring of alarms interrupts and Erza jumps back a foot. Jellal chuckles and brings her knuckles to his lips as the voice of dispatch fills every inch of the firehouse.

“I'll see you on Friday,” he says, leaving her at the end of the hallway. By the time he reaches the garage his mind is already a sharpened edge.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started this I didn't ever intend to make a thing out of it. I kind of made it up as I went along. I honestly don't know if there will be more of this or not. I feel like this is a good stopping point but eh. I just don't know.

The snow is already caking on his windshield and the cab of his truck is already cold. He should go inside but the panic is mounting and it's absurd. Jellal has been in therapy for two years. He shows up like some people go to church even though he suspects she's done all for him she can. Frigid air swirls into the truck when he swings the door open. His boots are dusted with snow before he makes it across the parking lot. The building is small but three names are on the sign. He climbs the steps and pulls the front door open.

Inside is warm. He pulls his hat off and approaches the receptionist. She smiles and takes his name. Erza isn't there yet. Jellal takes a seat in an arm chair and begins to take the place in. At first he thinks nothing. His mind is intentionally blank. But there are things he can't ignore. A couple with children. The older has her face in a comic book and the younger digs around in a tub full of hotwheels. On the side of the yellow tub the word _'Family'_ is scrawled in black marker. There's a canvas book rack that holds brightly colored children's magazines and books with cardboard pages. Now the room is screaming at him and he can't breathe.

Jellal's fingers dig into his palms and he suddenly stands. The cold air bites at his uncovered ears and fingers. He sucks in deep breaths and tries to regain _something._

“Jellal?” her voice is very quiet but he hears it. She doesn't touch him or even come too close. “I'm sorry,” she whispers. “I should've told you but I was afraid you wouldn't come.”

He grabs the frozen railing to make sure he can feel it – he does and it hurts.

“I don't think I can do this, Erza.”

“Therapy isn't new for you, Jellal,” she's still quiet but he doesn't miss the pleading tone.

“This is different.”

_“Please.”_

“Erza –”

“Look,” she was irritated now. Irritated but restrained. “I'm not forcing you. I need this. _You_ need this – probably more than me.” Erza sighed and he didn't have to look at her to know she was tugging on the end of a braid. “We can't move forward as a unit without this, Jellal. I'm going in.”

She leaves him on the landing grinding his teeth and wishing he was at home or at work or _anywhere else._ But he stays. He stays because he knows he will lose her if he leaves. His fingers come tingling back to life when he reenters the building. Erza is nothing but relief when he joins her in the waiting room. She presses her forehead to his shoulder.

“Thank you,” she whispers. The family from before is gone and all the toy cars have returned to the bin. Jellal stares at the cars and bites the inside of his cheek until he can taste the blood. _Two years._ How –

“Erza? Jellal?” Their new therapist is a smallish woman. She has wheat blonde hair and Jellal thinks she has too much of it. Erza takes his hand and pulls him from his chair. He lets her lead him into the office because he knows he can't do it on his own. It shouldn't be her responsibility but he lets her do it.

There's a lot of talking. Mostly Erza. He stares at his palms and lets her say all the things she needs to say. His silence feels like a failure. Jellal is _tired_ of failing.

“I had a look at what your other therapist sent over, Jellal, thank you for returning the release forms so quickly.”

“Yeah,” he rasps. “Um, we don't – I mean, I haven't really –” Jellal sighs and glances over at Erza who looks to be on the edge of devastation. “I'm sorry, I wasn't prepared for today. What I'm trying to say is that I haven't ever discussed the accident or the fire with her. Only the aftermath.”

“I see. Is there a reason for that?”

“Yep,” he says with an inappropriate levity. “It's because I'm a selfish bastard. As Erza pointed out to me recently, it happened to both of us and I made it about me. I'm _still_ making it about me by not talking about it.”

“You're here and that's a start,” she says with a smile.

* * *

 

When their time is up Jellal feels completely hollow. His edges are raw and he imagines he looks like an infected wound in the middle of being cleaned out for the first time. He follows Erza to her car and helps her clear the snow from her windows. She tells him their appointment is the same time next week but offers nothing more. He doesn't know if that means she doesn't want to see him in the mean time or if she's simply reminding him because she knows his head is elsewhere.

He dreams of ash and screams.

* * *

 

The silver key still dangles from his ring. He hasn't used it in a long time. Jellal wonders if it's even a good idea but maybe she'll forgive him.

Febie snuffles and paws at him and he spares her some attention. She rests her head on his shoulder and _goddamn_ if he didn't need the reinforcement. He fills her water dish and offers her a stick of dog jerky but Febie isn't fooled. She follows him all the way down the hall to the one door he never wanted to open again. His palm slides against the knob and he doesn't know how long he stands there waiting.

It's anti-climactic when he swings the door open. The room is empty. Of course it's empty. He suspects it was empty before he left but he never bothered to check. Jellal slides the closet door open and finds it empty too. He doesn't know what he expected. The hole in his chest doesn't feel better. It just feels empty.

His back slides along the wall – still painted a pale blue color – and when he collapses on the floor, Febie is there. She prods his shoulder and the palms of his hands. Her warm body settles over his lap and she doesn't flinch when his tears slide along the grain of her fur.

Empty em _pty empty._ The room. His chest. His arms. His hands. The back seat of the car that sits in a scrap yard somewhere. He stays in the room until it's dark. There are no light bulbs in the ceiling fan. Erza was thorough.

* * *

 

The front door shuts and Febie raises her head but doesn't leave him. He hears her breath at the sight of the open door and beyond. She joins him on the floor and wraps her hands around his arm. Erza says nothing and eventually one of her hands finds it's way into his. When he looks at her, she simply wipes his cheeks.

“I'm sorry for being in your house,” he whispers. “I should've called.”

“Do you know how long I've waited to find you in this room, Jellal?” She presses her fingers against his cheek and he feels it. He hasn't felt anything since before yesterday.

“Where is everything?”

“My mother has it. I asked her to help me after you started working doubles and not coming home. I couldn't do it alone.”

“I'm so sorry, Erza.” He feels all the words creeping onto his tongue and pressing like blood on a full bandage. They all spill out at once. “I'm sorry for not being here and I'm sorry for burying myself along with him. I'm sorry for leaving and I'm sorry for never talking about it.” He's breathing more now than he has all day. “I'm sorry that night and –”

Erza touches her finger to his lips. “No, you don't apologize for that part, Jellal. It wasn't your fault and I've never blamed you.”

“But it's my _job_ , Erza. I do it all the time. _All the time!”_ His sorrow has turned to rage. “And the one time it mattered I couldn't –” Erza's lips replace her finger. She gives him a soft kiss but he takes a bruising one. When she pulls back his face is wet again but these tears aren't his.

“Don't beat yourself up, Jellal, please. You're all I have now and I don't know how to fix you. Be kinder. Be softer.” Her eyes peer into the still dirty wound. “I want you to come home but I can't force it. You have to help me. You can't give up again. I need you _here.”_ Erza's voice is nothing more than a series of short breaths that don't hold themselves together well.

He pulls her against him and they are an awkward lump. Himself, Erza, and Febie. The ghost has been gone for a long time and he realizes he's been holding on to bitter, bitter air.


End file.
